


Advice and a Meeting

by TheWordsmithy



Category: Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Genre: Chance Meetings, First Meetings, Gen, Prequel, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-22
Updated: 2013-04-22
Packaged: 2017-12-09 05:51:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/770727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWordsmithy/pseuds/TheWordsmithy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur, who has a general sense of anxiety about life, is given the advice of "Don't Panic". He later meets someone who is writing for a book partly known for those words. (That is, this is one of those "how Arthur and Ford met" stories.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Advice and a Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I may or may not find myself writing a series of short short fics involving interactions between Arthur Dent and Ford Prefect on Earth before the events of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (and the works that came after it). 
> 
> If so, know this: they're set in a semi-AU in which the depictions and interpretations of the characters are somewhat different than they are in canon. By "somewhat different", I mean "they are written as more dysfunctional people than they appear to be in the source material, but the ways in which they are dysfunctional are based on things that actually do appear in the canon and might have appeared in canon were it more character-driven and not a comedy".
> 
> Yeah.

“So there you go,” said Arthur Dent, after a long session of complaining to his therapist. “What do you have to say about that?”

He was expecting her to diagnose him with an anxiety disorder (which would have made sense to him, given how upset and nervous pretty much everything made him). Barring that, he wouldn’t have been very shocked by a monologue from her about how he just needed to calm down (the abstract way in which he had rambled on about his life hadn’t exactly made his anxiety seem very serious or important). And while it would have been uncomfortable, he wouldn’t even be too surprised if she started laughing at how serious and emotional he sounded while basically telling her that the whole universe was a problem for him because he didn’t like it.

She didn’t do any of these things, however.

She simply said, “Don’t panic.”

“What?”

“Don’t panic,” she repeated, more slowly so Arthur could fully appreciate the syllables. “Repeat it.”

“Don’t panic,” Arthur repeated it. These words had, at this point in his life, no significance other than something his therapist was inexplicably getting him to say. In the future, they would take on the significance of being the words emblazoned on the cover of _The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_ , but since he knew nothing of the Guide (understandably, as he had never even heard of it), he simply saw them as a lead-in to some quite possibly useless advice.

“What I want you to do, Arthur, is not _just_ to not panic,” the therapist went on. “I want you to repeat the words ‘don’t panic’ to yourself. I want you to turn this into your motto for life. When life, the universe, and everything become too worrying – and you’re not alone in being worried by the cosmic absurdity of a world you can’t control – just say to yourself, ‘don’t panic’.”

“So I understand that I’m supposed to simply go around saying ‘don’t panic’ and all my anxiety will magically go away?” Arthur said.

“You can’t just _say_ it,” she said. “You have to fully embrace it. You have to believe that you can do something other than panic. You have to believe that you’re _capable_ of not panicking.”

Arthur Dent turned that idea over in his mind a few times. He wanted to fight it, believing his anxiety couldn’t be so easily-controlled and that was that. Besides, panicking was second nature to him.

“Do you believe you can do something other than panic?”

And this was rather a difficult question for Arthur to answer. He wanted to answer yes, he could definitely do things that weren’t panicking. But panicking was, after all, second nature to him, and for the first time in his life, it bothered him.

“So, what you’re saying…”

“Yes?”

“Is that if I keep saying ‘don’t panic’…”

“Yes?”

“And if I actually let myself believe that I can choose to not panic…”

“Yes.”

“Then, after a while, perhaps there actually will be situations in which I don’t panic?”

“Yes. That’s right.”

“I see a lot of things wrong with it, actually.”

Arthur would have gone off on a long session of explaining _what_ he found wrong with it, but there was a knock at the door. It was another patient, come to see the same therapist. Was their time together over so soon? Arthur checked his digital watch and found it to be so.

“Remember what I told you,” the therapist said as Arthur walked out the door. “Don’t panic.”

“Don’t panic,” Arthur whispered to himself, passing out of the room and into the hall. “Just repeat those words to myself and all my anxiety and worry will magically go away. Don’t panic. Right.”

 

By coincidence, “Don’t panic” were the words being repeated by a man in front of the therapist’s building as he stood on the curb and looked down, not wanting to look the world in the eye. He ran a hand quickly through his wiry ginger hair, a nervous habit. He wasn’t normally this nervous, but he was occasionally struck with the overwhelming fact that he was stuck on a horrifyingly dull alien planet and was probably never getting off.

“Don’t panic,” he said to himself. “Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.”

“Your therapist told you that, too, eh?”

Ford Prefect looked up as the taller dark-haired man approached him, standing beside him.

“Because my therapist just told me the same thing,” he carried on conversationally. “Don’t panic, she said. She wants that to be my personal mantra.”

“And are you able to do that?” Ford said. “The not panicking, that is?”

“Not remotely. I take it you’re similar to me in that regard?”

“Actually, I’m normally I’m very good at not panicking.”

“You lucky person.”

Ford made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a whistle. “I wish.”

Some cars passed by along the road in front of them. Any moment the light would change and allow them to cross. Arthur was about to ask what the other man meant by that remark, the statement of “I wish”, but this moment was the one in which the light changed. They crossed the street together, both of them somewhat more aware of their surroundings than they were before. Ford’s new awareness was caused by the fact that his panic had somewhat lifted. Arthur’s new awareness was caused by the fact that he had a terrible fear of cars and would not for a moment let out of his sight any of those passing by.

“Well, I did _that_ without panicking,” Arthur said once they reached the other side.

“So did I,” Ford said.

They stayed there for a while. They both knew they should go on their separate ways, but neither of them wanted to. Ford was pleased to have found someone in whom he could confide his panic. Arthur was pleased to have found someone who seemingly relieved his own.

There was an awkward pause before Ford decided to move things along with an introduction. “My name’s Ford. Ford Prefect.”

“I’m Dent. Arthur Dent.” Arthur found “Ford Prefect” to be a rather odd name (wasn’t that a type of car?) but he didn’t say anything about it.

Ford pointed to the therapist’s building. “Are you normally over there this time on – what day of the week is this?”

“Thursday.”

“Yeah. Are you normally there this time on Thursdays?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” said Ford. “I just wanted to know.” There was another pause. It wasn’t awkward so much as it hadn’t made up its mind whether it wanted to be awkward or not. “I, uh, I suppose I’ll be seeing you, then.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah.”

The two decided to part and go on their separate ways from there, knowing they’d see each other next Thursday.


End file.
